


Viewpoint of a dazed clairvoyant

by Jyuun_Miya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 6k words, Canon-Compliant, Chapter 1, Flashbacks, Haikyuu - Freeform, Haikyuu post-timeskip, Headcanon-like, M/M, MSBY, MSBY Black Jackals - Freeform, Post-Timeskip, SakuAtsu, messy timeline, skts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jyuun_Miya/pseuds/Jyuun_Miya
Summary: It was a normal day, like every single one.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Viewpoint of a dazed clairvoyant

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this was probably one of the worst ones I planned on finishing. Although stan SakuAtsu so there’s that. There were really lots of confusing elements that even I was confused why they were there in the first place. The timeline was really messy, and I didn’t put them in order, At first I thought it was okay for dramatic effect. Worst decision I have ever made. 
> 
> Also a few other unnecessary rudiments in this story but that’s okay!!! Not like a lot’s gonna read this fic lol
> 
> Warning! Really awful writing straight ahead!
> 
> Extra notes at the end.  
> 

Shinsuke pats the head of each of his members like a caring mom, one way or another, satisfied with their last game together. Eventually they’ll start watching other matches but not play for them this year. He had said he wanted to play with them a little longer, making everyone emotional by the minute. It was no doubt that they were indeed one of the unmatched schools to begin with. They had complex individualities that not only made them stand out, but also an institute to be feared. Did they hesitate in giving it their all and crush their opponents together? Of course they didn’t.

Shinsuke takes out a grin and says, “I’m especially impressed by both of you,” pointing at the intimidating twins as everyone else in the team looks at them. Atsumu and Osamu Miya, a pair to be daunted with. They had played as one of the main individuals to lock on because of how much of terrors they were, both separately and when together. That is, when they’re not trying to kick each other’s limbs, not caring who’s around.

All of them are in fact, getting crushed on and cheered on by crowds, and they kept all the memories of them being rash idiots that can manage a thing or two. It held no pressure on their loss, but it still didn’t stop any of them to try harder and be better at what they’re already doing now. Atsumu, now blinking hard intentionally, tried to spit out his words of praise for the captain, but afraid that the faucet in his eyes might start working more than it should.

Aran pats Atsumu on the back, hoping that it’s enough encouragement that things won’t take a turn for the worst. Aran can clap back more naturally than anyone else but that’s because in the first place, he reads people like a book. In this case, Atsumu, the one who’s taking this all too profoundly, one more cough away from tearing up and one more sneeze away to skip a heartbeat. Aran can read him even if he’s a closed book, what he’s feeling written all over the cover.

The twins had said all their thanks that will eventually turn to them bidding farewell to Shinsuke, and he had gladly commended them with delight. Atsumu’s usual face of disgust he’s been practicing for years turned somewhat softer as he looks at his twin brother, trying to hide the irritation that somehow isn’t there right now. Oh, Atsumu, if he couldn’t grow hate on anyone, why think about hating them in the first place?

Osamu leans onto him and crosses his arms. “We’ve played well, y’now. Let’s never forget this.” He then puts his arms in on his waists, content with where they have gone. Atsumu looks down for a moment. “Yeah.” Atsumu cracked his neck, almost forgetting that he had just broken a good sweat, and Hinata Shoyo is most responsible of why he’s never felt so alive in a match for quite a while. _He’s really provocative, I like it,_ he had thought. Maybe he wanted to play longer to make the most of it. Or—

“Hey.” A generic smug deep voice was calling out to them, or perhaps one of them. Atsumu turns around immediately like a member of a contending team was about to pierce him with a dagger. Osamu looks at him, somehow reading his delusional thoughts. It was typically a brother thing, mostly on the account that they spent time together as idiots in sync.

Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief, forgetting that he’s still with his teammates and Kiyoomi was just calling out to him, glaring knives at the setter.

Wait Kiyoomi? Calling him? They have been on the same training camp and interacted, but he had not thought, not ever, of him initiating first for God knows what reason. May it be that he wants someone to get rid of a dead rat that’s within a 10-meter radius from him or asking which possessions are whose. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi, one of the ace spikers of their generation, is right on front of him, staring down at him as if about to ask a question. Atsumu calmly looks up at him, not being able to read the room well as everyone else. What does he want? Is there a sticky note somewhere on Atsumu’s back with the words “kick me” written on it? Did he perhaps forget he stole something from him on the training camp (he clearly didn’t, maybe hearts though)? 

“You were holding back on the training camp, weren’t you?”

Everyone else had started strutting off, thinking it was an inside conversation only they should listen to. Osamu and Suna stayed in, the latter just a flight of stairs down below, still close enough.

Kiyoomi leans back, hands in his pocket and his mask still on his face. He looked like a mummy that got dipped in sour cream. He was indeed taller than most people in the arena. Even with the slight distance, Atsumu was visibly a bit curter.

But Atsumu got charmed. Mind empty, just thoughts of a European little girl with braids running the fields in the sunset. It made him feel as if his pre-improvement phase was more noticeable rather than the change and development he’s had on the way. He raised a brow. He can probably be a strict school dean if he tried.

“Why’re ya’sking that?” He uttered out of nowhere. His head was only filled with a TV static, confused by the sudden turn of events. Did he walk for several minutes, risking contact with anyone within a 10-meter radius just so he could ask that? Nonetheless, he was still waiting for his answer like a vending machine waiting for someone to punch the numbers in. Except there is no vending machine and what’s there is only a lightheaded Atsumu, almost dependent only from his torso like a bobblehead.

Kiyoomi clearly had no plans answering the question when he was still asking his. 

“Nah, I kinda heightened in the prod of the instance,” finally voicing out the most precise answer he could find in his putrid mind.

Kiyoomi, finally pleased with his response replied with a “hm’mm,” as he nods and struts off the opposite direction.

Who knew they’d be teammates years later?

<<<

“Oi! Wait up!” Atsumu clumsily catches up to Kiyoomi’s pace, fixing his shoe that fell from earlier. Kiyoomi had noticed Atsumu tailing him since early that afternoon. He turns around to him, his back still hunched and simply stared at Atsumu.

Atsumu stares back with a sincere grin. Since the beginning he’s found Kiyoomi fascinating and took a liking every time they played against each other in practice. Come to think of it, he’s barely even set to him the entire time. He catches up beside him and Kiyoomi continues walking along, not feeling awkward or obdurate. They both took a walk on a small uphill road, the discomfort of crossing the highway already far gone.

“What’s your deal?” Kiyoomi asked after a few moments silence, not showing any signs of crossness with the other.

Atsumu noticed him watch his tone, making him giggle a little. For the little time spent together, Atsumu observed and took mental notes about Kiyoomi’s presence. Atsumu was keen-eyed and in practice mustered his understandings of his opponent’s strength altogether.

“Nothing. I just thought maybe ye wanna, bid farefell dramatically.”

“You sound like a madcap, Miya. What’s going on with you?” Kiyoomi paused, taking out an isopropyl alcohol spray out of his jacket and Atsumu having to turn around for his late halt. Kiyoomi takes it back in his pocket and looks back up after bowing down the entire time. “Care to answer?”

Kiyoomi rubbed his palms together in some sort of peculiar motion where his hands face the opposite of where they’re moving over and over. It’s the same one that money makers and expert gamblers use when they’re getting the dough, or the same one a strong guy does before tugging something hard.

Atsumu was reddening the entire time. No wonder he was tailing him like a stray dog following a guy who fed him an entire buffet. He scoffed and turned around, somehow amused by his own predicament. “Nothing, um… Sakusa-kun?”

How rash. Atsumu has no idea how to address Kiyoomi. First name or last name? What honorific should he even add? Due to him having a breakthrough and an off-putting time during the training, it’s the plain things that doesn’t come to notice.

“Whatever seems right for you.” Kiyoomi waved him off, half regretting he split with his cousin on the node road to their way home. Komori was always the type to prioritize anything that comes to mind; no particular order as long as it’s there to manage. In this case, he just decided to buy fares.

“Hehe. Okay then, Omi-kun!”

“Alright then, Miya.” Kiyoomi grabbed his little spray and used it on his hands again, and rubbed them in a crossing linear motion, somewhat satisfying to look at. It looked like particularly something a gambler likes doing before winning the game eventually. It was different from the motion he had used earlier, but it was satisfying, nonetheless. “It’s fine with you, right? You do have a twin brother.”

Atsumu grinned and patted Kiyoomi on the back, him flinching in response. He chuckled saying, “It wouldn’t matter. It ain’t like my good fellow trainee friend and the most annoying brat in the world ‘re bound to meet right?”

“Is that a twin thing?” Kiyoomi asks both in cynicism and in all seriousness. He raised a brow which made him look like a strict manager who’d give you a wedgy if you glared just a little wrong.

The warm sunset started to beam upon them even after going roads just to go to a station. Atsumu hid his upper lip awkwardly and smirked, looking to the side and scratching his shin. _He looks like a monkey,_ Kiyoomi thought as Atsumu scoffed at the question.

“I’m still older, just so you know.”

“How does it feel being older then?”

“Middle child?” Atsumu interrupts to ask as he points at Kiyoomi, referring to him as the one being asked, slightly puzzled.

“Youngest. I have two more.”

Atsumu did not just have an image of Kiyoomi’s siblings being tall, intimidating colossuses who’d brush your insides with bleach and use a fine bristled one on the process. His jaw dropped a bit, saying “Yer kidding, right? That’s cute,” but he’s trying not to move it at all. It’s not awe, but it’s not loathe either.

“I can’t say. I’m viable and I don’t stop until I’m right there.” Kiyoomi checked his phone, half-expecting a family member to text “dinner is ready” as a generic response to his earlier message saying, “I’ll be home in a bit.”

“Would be nice if we could actually have a match for real right? Like y’know, you, me, a battle between two neat schools.” Atsumu shifted the breeze, knowing Kiyoomi doesn’t like going overboard or he’ll, on no occasion, stop in no time. Atsumu imagines a chimp stacking donut blocks and the blocks start talking and put themselves on the wrong order and the chimp just gives up on the toy.

“I can’t say I want to see that happen.” Kiyoomi leaned over his own shoulder and drearily looked at the setter, half expecting a surprised response to the point where the other would probably jump off a nearby bridge and land on a support beam.

“Why not? Yer just that good I wanna compete! ‘Top Ace Of The Country!’” Atsumu mockingly says the last sentence but means it in a sardonic way. As if Kiyoomi couldn’t get more intimidating.

“I’m just saying, I will be looking forward to it. It’s just not something I’m hoping for, but something I am expecting.” Kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck as he puts his phone back in his pocket, him probably done replying on whatever text came.

“Oof. Goodie goodie then.”

“You know you get more annoying by the day, right?”

Atsumu turned to him fully, only having to turn his head since the conversation earlier. He looked confused but actually registered the ace’s words right, just him taking a while to process it, like a malfunctioning typewriter that only punches in the letters a few seconds after a designated element was pressed. “I know.” The sun cast a large shadow all over Atsumu, the orange beam just behind him.

Kiyoomi stayed still for a second, just a little bit wide-eyed. Somehow, intrigued.

“Good.”

>>>>>

`The monthly Akaashi Keiji journal texts page pad 14, 2018`

`Everything looks so pure, fresh. I personally like the fact that it felt like a reunion for the most of us. Everyone had grown up, as I’ve seen. People from Karasuno even surprised each other. I walked into the arena and I saw the two coaches from the same school, one of them already sniveling at the occurrence.  
My boyfriend had invited me to watch days before, and I felt like he was trying to impress me more than anyone else watching him, and that was only for me to know. I’m actually happy with it. We had talked it over and I said I’d only watch from the remoteness. To see him grow and never stop in doing the things he loved while supporting my career choice really carried me up, and I’m thankful.  
Udai-san had come too, although weeks before we were panicking over his art block and the submissions he had missed out for everyone else’s update. I am currently using the office typewriter he never uses to paste on my notes later.  
We had discussed changing the wind of his narrative and the scenario, but along the way he’d been going through his emo phase and had been banging his head on the work desk as well as hiding under it crouched while he was drawing the storyboard on a clumsy piece of paper. Of course, as if I never got used to this in high school.  
Relieving it is, we had finished the transitions and the final product in a few days and all my nonstop editing, critiquing, and proofreading with a latte cup by my side 24 hours a day, not literal, apparently, and we were collected enough to submit whatever abomination we created (this is sarcasm. Please don’t fire me.) and be on our way.  
I had told him I had been dating Bokuto-san back in high school maybe months ago, a few weeks after I shifted to him and got hired in a whim. I have no idea he’d be that shook, was Bokuto-san really that famous and eminent? Well, I could not be any prouder of him; even if I’m not there, the spotlight is where he belongs.  
On the day of the MSBY Black Jackals and Schweiden Adlers match, I did mention seeing a lot of people. A whole lot more than I expected actually. I noticed almost all of them from Karasuno, then some from Seijoh, maybe a few from Dateko and Shiratorizawa.  
On the way to buy myself some onigiris and a few drinks for Bokuto-san after the match, I witnessed the fresh look of the pinch server kid who happened to be with Hinata supporting Bokuto-san on that one match where almost no one witnessed in the sub arena back in high school. I have only seen Hinata later on the current match, all grown up like everyone else.  
Bokuto-san had told me Hinata had spent two years in Rio, almost isolating his entire being. That is what I was assuming, I have never heard of him ever since if I have to be honest.  
I also met one of the Miya twins from Inarizaki, Osamu, who happened to be the owner of the Onigiri Miya which I could’ve figured out if I wasn’t lightheaded and ecstatic before my boyfriend’s match in Sendai.`

` _Udai-san is currently looking at me from the other side of the office as I am writing this; he noticed the word Sendai._ `

`Osamu was friendly and looked like he recognized me. I wasn’t that good as a setter back in high school, but I got acquainted at times, surprisingly none of these are about how I’m able to compose Fukurodani’s ace. I also subconsciously called the twin the nickname Bokuto-san’s been using when talking about the Miyas. Maybe Osamu-kun sounds way too casual.  
The match started as we had a good chat, not moving from where I currently was. I already knew his twin brother was Bokuto-san’s teammate, Miya Atsumu, and I could hear probably Osamu mumbling about how terrible he was. What’s it like to have siblings, even?  
The match progressed and the four, as well as the captain and the libero, stood out the most. Sakusa had lots of service aces and I’ve been counting all of theirs, beating Atsumu to a pulp. I forgot that Bokuto-san had already been okay even without my guidance in the court, and even Hinata has improved being a decoy.  
Atsumu was precise in his setting to everyone, them counting on his sets like the middle of tangled strings. He was specifically good at setting to Sakusa and Hinata; Hinata being more flexible and agile as ever and Sakusa effortlessly making the strongest spikes because of his heard hypermobility, even Kageyama and Ushijima were insufficient blocks themselves. Hinata had blocked Hoshiumi’s spike that one time, and I was already certain Bokuto-san, and the rest were going to win, him talking to me about the match that night.  
I told him about something I saw, and he was all-ears.  
As I remember, Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san, along with the rest, reunited and it felt surreal. Kuroo was giving Hinata a talk (although I haven’t heard from afar, I was talking to Osamu). Osamu was going to give me a discount for keeping him company and for the slight antipathy upon his twin brother as well, although I know it’s just his habit. The old first years from back then have gathered around now, Kuroo taking some alone time with Tsukishima later on. `

`“Drop the honorifics, ‘Kaashi. ‘Osamu’ is fine.”`

`“Friends?”`

`“Ye, besties.”`

`And then a friendship was made that day, only because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. What bliss.`

`I went to the bathroom, motioning Bokuto-san his congratulations without looking at him, silently telling him I’ll meet him once he’s done talking, Udai-san and I were going to interview him, but a potty break was what I needed at that moment. I saw—`

<<<

It had been a normal day, and there were things yet to be known.

“Kita-san, what’re ye reading?” Atsumu was at his usual business, minding others instead of his own. Kita was comfortable just outside the gym, sitting on the steps and indulging in whatever paperback he’s currently reading. Practice had been over, and there was nothing more to look forward to.

Kita shifts his eyes to the other, wind passing by to complement the cloudy afternoon. He puts a finger or two between the current page he was reading and replies, “economic studies, if you’d like to call it that.” He then takes out a small sigh, clearly showing that he just wants to breathe in the ascetically strong air. 

“I thought you were more of the psychology type, Kita-san.”

“Is that how you make assumptions of everybody?”

Atsumu’s soul almost left out of his body, once again spitting out the words that’ll be considered erroneous to Shinsuke himself. His shoulders shivered with his mouth and gritted his teeth in regret. It had not been his first time; in fact, it’s already been hundreds of times where he gets called out by their captain, him along with the rest of them.

“That was lighthearted. Don’t let people push you around like that.” Shinsuke smiled a bit as he returned to his book, giggling in amusement. It was his last year in high school, and Shinsuke himself knew “making the most of it” seemed too insipid and typical. Here he was, simply being in sync with the peaceful elements of the world, something anyone would love to be in.

“Kita-san, what’re yer plans?” Atsumu sat down with him, just a step below to have a glance at the book cover.

Shinsuke, still reading, simply asks, “After all this?”

“Mm-hm. After all we’ve gone through here.”

“Then I’ll continue to be happy. Who knows what my fate has to bring me, or where it’ll take me, even?” 

When he responded, Atsumu felt a string of empathy, something not seen or sensed by the likes of others. As soon as he was about to reply, Shinsuke had continued.

“Silly me. I should be telling you to be happy too.” Shinsuke once again smiled, this time closing the book completely. “Here I am, happy that I’m reading something I’m most likely into, and graduating and hopefully walk on a bright path soon.”

“Kita-san, yer gonna make me cry so bad!” Atsumu bawled and stomped his foot, almost not feeling the tears come up just on top of his corneas, so he blinked twice to dismiss the sensation.

“Human emotions are valid.”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Haha. You’re really an amusing one. You may not know this, but you never fail to put a smile on my face, even if I don’t show it.” He pats Atsumu on the back and goes on. “But as I said, never hesitate in satisfying yourself, or finding a goal, an aim, an objective. You make others happy, then you need to be happy yourself.”

Atsumu took these words by heart. Once again, Shinsuke had said yet another astute statement. He had never had bad advice or confrontations come out of his mouth, which was one of many reasons why he was an amazing person in general.

“So go be happy, eh?” Shinsuke stood up, going back inside the gym to sort everything or position the things in disarray.

Atsumu was stuck in place, the trees and the leaves in great movement as much as spring could offer. He put his knees together and embraced them with his arms as he leaned his head on top of them. He felt like he finally knew the answers, the meaning of life and things he had yet to learn. More was coming, more should be expected, no matter how ready. 

That was how Atsumu thought things should be molded into. His entire approach. Unsure if there was more to life than waiting to get there, and being satisfied with your final destination, he thought long and hard on how things should be.

“Kita-san, yer gonna need two more hands there.”

“Mhm, seems like I do.” Shinsuke handed him a ball and he caught it. “Help me with everything then?”

Atsumu smiled implicitly and nodded, excited to talk more as he stepped back inside the gym.

It had been a normal day, and there were things he has now taken along the way.

>>>

“And Bokuto?” the man interviewing the four of them gestured towards the owl-looking player, Koutarou looking up and smiling with confusion written on his face.

They were sitting right next to each other, in glossy red stools and had pastel yellow walls of the room to create an aesthetic photo to take. Their interview was making it to the weekly paper, their debut something making it in the streets of the country. They had visualized their exact words on the front page being written in text, given how their interviewer was fast at typing on his laptop while asking them one by one.

Koutarou had answered, the rest of them a little confounded. Kiyoomi had been staring at his nails every now and then, surprisingly being way more cooperative with the talk than everyone else. He had been more concise with his words and always had a hint of candor on every expression. 

Atsumu had been staring at the recorder frequently, recording their voices for unknown reasons. He thought it resembled a silver lighter you’d see noble men use in the movies. Another question had been asked for him. It was his turn.

Their sequence of answering the same question before going to the next one started with Atsumu, then Shoyou, Shion, Kiyoomi and Koutarou. Being the only ones there, with their jerseys for fan service and airconditioned room that made anyone wanna wear the hottest socks, the day was going to be a long one.

“Very typical yet modest question, how’d you get this far? Both in volleyball and life in general?” the interviewer had adjusted his glasses then pointed his pen diligently to him, smiling at him.

Atsumu gulped, but he wasn’t nervous, in fact he’s getting fired up. To talk about how long he’s been running the path just for him. For how his hard work finally paid off and he got the praise he’s been longing for. 

“Well, y’see…”

Everyone had leaned in closer, discomforting Atsumu, especially that the object of his unrequited love is just sitting two seats away. Still looking at his nails, Kiyoomi had glanced a few seconds later than everyone else, and that’s when Atsumu internally signaled himself to continue.

“A simple question’s simply answered. I think about where I should be going and pinpoint a lot further than that. I deserve everything I work hard for and then aim higher, cuz I’m optimistic that I’ll get there if I try.” _Shit. I might have sounded gawky. What’s he gonna think?_ He thought as he looked at Kiyoomi for a second. He wasn’t aware that he was also responsible for getting him that far. _What’re you looking dumb for?_

Atsumu was close to screaming on the spot and grabbing Kiyoomi by the neck back and forth. 

“Very well, Miya-san.” The interviewer had said, and without a second of rest, the orange haired teammate beside him answered next.

“I had to go through a whole lot of criticism, judgement, as well as hardships and times of self-doubt. But I used it all against itself and I tried and tried until I got here. And looking at how far I’ve gone gets me so fired up!” 

Shion and Atsumu beside him were wide eyed, lips looking like they’re smiling but in confusion. Koutarou grinned listening to Shoyou, and Kiyoomi had yet to heed. 

After a while of answering several questions and chattering with each other while doing so, they were given a break for the day, as if they had an adequate amount for every day. Atsumu stepped outside the airconditioned interview room, looking left and right on the halls before stepping outside. He really didn’t feel like interacting with just about anyone in the studio right before he plotted sitting alone somewhere remote in the atelier structure, probably sipping a juice box right there. He walked clumsily, slightly sliding his hands across the wall he’s barely leaning on. His expression was cloudy and contrasted his usual ones; he most certainly didn’t feel it today.

Atsumu breathed out cold air and arched his back even with the wall he was leaning on. He was at the studio’s canopy where almost anyone who wouldn’t take a second look would notice him at the corner. His legs were apart; he looked drained or inert at that instant. 

He was between two small buildings connected to each other, the other being the bar that was owned by the same person that owned the studio. Atsumu took a deep breath, biting his own lips playfully.

Why was he like that right now? Does he know why he feels that way, just several moments after answering questions enthusiastically, looking at his infatuation all wrapped around in flesh?

There it was. Atsumu confirmed his own internal feelings but at times he’d forget. _I deserve everything I work hard for and then aim higher, cuz I’m optimistic that I’ll get there if I try,_ he had said earlier. The words he said were like written in black ink, but with just the right amount, was secretly blue, something only he’d see.

Words so true yet had distinct intentions. Words that could live on their own, and he himself knew that other significances were only for him to know. This was how he was great at concealing his feelings. Making it seem as if the external was on its own and had no other reason. None of it was because of ulterior motive because Atsumu was genuinely a passionate and all-out person.

Yet there he was. Sitting as if imitating a cane. It wasn’t confusion, in fact he knew how he felt at that moment. Complicated feelings he didn’t refuse to understand.

_Sakusa. Omi-kun. Omi._ Contemplating as he stared at the floor, the view between his knees, and beyond that. The early morning heat from the streets could not only be seen, but also heard because of the current commotion of vehicles outside. It was dark in the corners, but he was at peace, unlike him who seemed very much comfortable around a crowd, or around friends.

It had been a normal day, and there were things yet to be known—

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up to see a puzzled Kiyoomi looking down at him, half-wondering because he picked a rough spot on the awning.

“Omi-kun,” Atsumu thought it was the worst time for him to show up, knowing he was off-character for now. “d’you need somethin’?” he asked as he straightened his back and sat criss-cross applesauce and became wary of Kiyoomi if he at least moved a muscle.  
And then they returned to darkness. Silence follows. Atsumu looks back down as Kiyoomi leans on the same wall Atsumu propped on, facing the exit of the canopy which was being glared at the raging sun. Atsumu wasn’t the awkward type at times like these, but he was definitely the dreary one.

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, signifying his approach.

“Think, plan, get there, then go further.” Kiyoomi roughly repeated what Atsumu claimed as his ideology, some logical line he’s manifested over time. He looked up and gulped, and the other simply stared at him, then Kiyoomi continued.

“Hinata Shoyou.”

Atsumu suddenly remembered since high school, how he wanted to play with him so desperately and now, has already gotten there. The entire thought was satisfying to say the least. 

_Wait._

He finally stood up after a while, this time wide-eyed and his jaw dropping. “Omi-kun you—”

“I can keep a secret, Miya. I’ve seen that resolve of yours ever since you started pointing fingers. I won’t tell anyone.”

_No, no, no! You got it all wrong here!_ Atsumu wanted to scream, but hesitated.

“It’s not like that!” he raised his voice, wanting to slap Kiyoomi for being as blind as a bat. His eyebrows clearly indicated that he wasn’t in favor of the words that came out of Kiyoomi’s mouth. 

Kiyoomi stepped in closer and closed the small distance between the two of them. The second he came to a halt, he looked at Atsumu with a tranquil face, the other being unsure if he was being provoked readily or Kiyoomi was dead serious about his speculation.

“Then what is it? Adoration? Fascination? Or simply just you denying the fact that you’re falling in love with someone?”

_Shut up, it’s not him, it’s you! Yer so dumb!_ Atsumu was trying not to overflow his own cup, and that’s when his eyes got even more livid. But he did realize how relentless he was at letting an intermediary like Shoyou to define where he is now, and Kiyoomi himself could’ve bat an eye. He noticed, but he was dead wrong.

“Y’now what? Yer gonna refuse to hear the truth. Y’wouldn’t understand.” 

He wanted to yell. Bawl. Things that still seem very much like him, this time in a different motive.

“What do I not understand? You’ve gotten this far; I’ve at least known you that long—”

Atsumu looked at his left, hiding both his lips. His eyes were now more dead, yet more alert. He’s done for. Exposed. There was nothing to look forward to but discomfiture. If since high school, Aran could read him, how is Kiyoomi any different? In fact how is he any less?

He darts off. Feet stomping the ground, supposedly going back to the studio by passing by Kiyoomi and not face him at all. He has no clue what to do next. He didn’t even need to confess. _Yer easy to read, as always,_ Atsumu remembers Aran saying. The doors are wide open as they should be, and there was his portal to freedom, at least right now in this situation.

“Wait.” Kiyoomi stated. Atsumu was wide eyed. He wasn’t facing him, as soon as he did, his teary eyes glared at his hand that Kiyoomi was holding, and then Kiyoomi’s face. His eyes. Wide. His mouth. Slightly open, as if his jaw dropped a little. His entire expression. Stunned. “Is this what I think—”

“And so what if it is?!” Atsumu yanked his hand off Kiyoomi’s grip, then used it to wipe the small tears above his cheek, then his nose clumsily. He snorted. “Everything was fine the way it was! And so what if it’s true?! You read me like a book! And what’re ye gonna do about it?!”

It was wrong. That wasn’t for him to say. He thought that it was better not to return the favor, even half-heartedly. Yet there he was, sobbing, something he planned on doing alone. Now other than cars passing by, horns, the wind, and some birds, there was quiet that followed. 

Atsumu looked down, his fists clenched and trying to suppress every hitch his lungs were trying to give. Kiyoomi stared there, the few moments of that very confession making his face the way it was. The ambience, the tension rather, was getting thicker but the air was getting thin. 

“I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally said to cut the uneasy mood. He looked back up at Kiyoomi. Clearly, the both of them wanted to inch closer, whatever reason it may be. Comfort, Apologies. It could be clarity, maybe wanting to elaborate every word being said.

“Don’t be.”

“Forget I ever said anything, m’kay Omi-kun?” Atsumu grinned widely after asking, his eyes still getting tears despite them being almost closed, and his nose dripping just a little bit.

Kiyoomi remembers the same expression he had once made, and right now he’s making the sme one he did when he witnessed it himself. “What do you mean, Miya?”

“Everything.”

Atsumu dashes to the doors, wiping his face, realizing despite the genuine expression, he had an ugly amount of mucus and tears all over him. He gritted his teeth, trying not to make a much worse aftermath.

,,,

Kiyoomi stared there. Now looking down, not knowing how to feel. The memories of everything wall all in all different. Now everything was meant to be something else. He covered his own mouth with his hand and rubbed his lower face, out of words, out of thoughts.

He thought about if Atsumu had said it in another time. Would it feel right? Would it fit well? Would he reciprocate his feelings? Would he have any feelings for him in the first place? Right now was uncertain. He’s the type to put situations that involve emotions like this aside to focus on what’s there. Vague if he feels sorry, empathy, or wishing there were something more, at least something to brighten up the canvas. But there was nothing.

Kiyoomi went the same direction as the other, taking a while so they don’t have to run into each other, giving Atsumu the benefit.

~~It had been a normal day, and there were things yet to be known.~~

It had been a normal day, and there were things he has now taken along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I am terrible sorry for wasting your time like this. Yeah anyways I kinda had fun writing, even with the confusing things I set for myself. Yes, I'm currently writing a chapter two (who would leave a cliffy at the end and not have a sequel lol) and yes this was also a rollercoaster ride. I did a lot of research about the anime itself, and real life references, as well as words that were hard to translate because of my dialect. And believe me most of the "mysterious" elements here are subtle emulations of the FNAF series LMAO.I may have confused some words bcuz of rough translation skills, and there's also the timeline and canon mistakes I might have not noticed :DDD 
> 
> hmu if you wanna, and kudos are highly appreciated!!! <3


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